"I have every reason to suspect those two completely forgot I even exist."
Jeanne lay sprawled out on the sloping timber roof of the Silverash Clan estate, gazing up at the gray morning sky with a look of utter existential detachment.
Down below, two sisters were wrapped in a tearful embrace, pouring their hearts out to one another after years apart. Up on the roof, however, Jeanne was stuck in the freezing cold alongside a semi-present, semi-absent local deity, passing the hours with idle, circular banter.
Perhaps because Jeanne was an outsider unafflicted by local dogma, Kjeragandr found herself unburdening long-suppressed thoughts and anxieties to the Saintess, treating her almost like a long-lost confidante.
Of course, Jeanne was no therapist, nor did an ancient being who had endured for millennia need a grief counselor. Jeanne simply contented herself with playing the role of a patient listener, tossing in the occasional nod or wry remark.
"Thank you, Jeanne. Getting all of that off my chest feels remarkably relieving," Kjera murmured, her tone dipping into a quiet, heavy murmur. "Truth be told, I used to share moments like this with my worshippers long ago... until those children began taking things to terrifying extremes."
She recalled with a faint shudder how past mortals had reacted to her gentle inquiries. Whenever she expressed even a passing curiosity toward something, her devotees would go to horrifying lengths to obtain it as an offering—eventually even resorting to living human sacrifices to appease their deity.
"And they genuinely believed their atrocities were acts of divine piety, didn't they?" Jeanne guessed softly.
It was a familiar story: fanaticism twisting pure faith, giving humans an excuse to unleash the dark beasts lurking inside their own hearts under the guise of holy devotion.
"Indeed," Kjera sighed. "They instinctively twisted every word I uttered. The selection of the Saintess is a prime example—it was never meant to be such a cruel, isolating ordeal. Yet every time I tried to intervene and soften the tradition, the Vine-Bear Court merely devised even harsher, more restrictive rituals to prove their devotion, until it escalated into what you see today."
It was the main reason Kjera felt a lingering guilt toward every Saintess who had ever worn the mantle. Yet, as a deity whose sheer existence was consumed by maintaining the natural stability of the snowy realm, she possessed little leeway to directly alter human politics without causing greater ruin.
Throughout the long, bitter night, Kjeragandr shared many secrets of her heart, revealing forgotten fragments of Kjerag's history that had long dissolved into the mountain mists.
Downstairs, the heartfelt conversation between Enya and Ensia continued well into the dead of night. When Jeanne finally slipped down to check on them, she found both sisters fast asleep on the rug, thoroughly exhausted and curled up in each other's arms.
For a brief second, Jeanne felt an urge to shake them awake and demand a medal for her patience. The impulse vanished as quickly as it came, and she simply retreated to an empty guest room to catch a few hours of rest herself.
At the first light of dawn, Enya stirred in her sister's arms.
Opening her eyes, the sight of golden morning sun filtering through the window pane sent a wave of icy panic surging through her chest. Cold sweat broke out across her forehead. I actually fell asleep in my old home for the entire night?!
In that split second, her panic wasn't about facing the sharp, accusatory glares of the monks from the Vine-Bear Court. Rather, her immediate, horrifying thought went to Jeanne—was the Laterano Saintess still sitting up on the freezing roof, turned into a solid block of ice after a full night in the blizzard?!
"Dammit, how could I be so careless?!" Enya berated herself, scrambling out of bed and rushing toward the door to locate her frozen escort. "I was supposed to slip back before dawn!"
"You didn't honestly think I'd be foolish enough to freeze on the roof all night, did you? Here, eat up."
Just as Enya reached the hallway, Jeanne strolled around the corner with a steaming breakfast tray in hand. Whether she had snuck into the kitchens to whip it up herself or commandeered the estate's head chef, the food looked remarkably appetizing.
"Thank goodness you're alright! I am so terribly sorry, I—"
"Save the apologies," Jeanne interrupted, waving her hand dismissively with a breezy grin. "It's completely natural to lose track of time when reunited with family after years apart. Besides, your estate is huge—finding a cozy empty room to sleep in wasn't exactly hard."
"Where did you get that breakfast...?" Enya asked, letting out a breath of relief as she accepted the tray, though a sudden doubt flickered in her mind. If Jeanne had simply swiped the food without telling anyone, some poor kitchen staff member might take the fall for it.
"Relax, I gave a quick heads-up to the current administrator of this household," Jeanne replied casually. "She knows you're back, so there's zero reason to worry."
Jeanne mentally recalled her brief encounter with Degenbrecher earlier that morning. The Black Knight, who was currently wrapping clean bandages around her injuries from their duel, had looked at Jeanne with an expression that suggested she was seeing a ghost.
Degenbrecher had been utterly baffled—why on earth was this terrifying Laterano warrior casually strolling through the Silverash Clan's private corridors at dawn? Had she come back to deliver another beating just because she was bored?!
"Wait, so... my secret return has been exposed?" Enya asked, her brows knitting with sudden anxiety.
"You couldn't have kept a night-long visit secret forever anyway," Jeanne reasoned gently. "Besides, is it really that bad? You're just visiting your own home—since when is a sister banned from stepping into her family's house?"
Enya paused, taking in Jeanne's words before offering a slow, resolute nod. Jeanne was right. She was the eldest daughter of the Silverash Clan; returning to her own ancestral home was her absolute right.
"Mmm... Sister? Are you awake already?"
Ensia's sleepy voice called out from the bedroom. Rubbing her eyes as she stepped into the doorway, her face lit up when she spotted Enya, followed by a polite nod to the visitor. "Miss Jeanne! Thank you so much for everything last night!"
"I'm awake, Clifford," Enya replied gently, though a heavy hesitation settled into her tone. "In fact... I'm getting ready to leave. Ensia, won't you come with me?"
Enya bit her lip, her heart aching with worry. She had no idea what grand, dangerous gambit Enciodes was orchestrating from the shadows. Truth be told, she no longer cared about the political affairs of the Silverash Clan or the Tri-Clan Council—her sole priority in this world was keeping her little sister safe.
She wanted to pull Ensia out of this brewing storm and keep her close under her own protection. As for Enciodes's radical plans, he could carry them out by himself.
Enya fully expected Ensia to nod eagerly, pack her climbing gear, and leave the estate at her side without a second thought.
Yet, young Ensia did something that completely defied Enya's expectations.
"I can't leave right now, Sister."
The answer came in a steady, unyielding tone. In that quiet morning light, the young girl made her choice.
"I'm not as clueless as everyone thinks, Sister," Ensia continued, looking her older sibling straight in the eye. "Brother may be officially missing, but he's very much alive, isn't he? He's planning something massive—something that will shatter the peace of this country—and both you and the Silverash Clan are bound to be dragged right into the center of it."
Enya remained silent, offering only a slow, somber nod. She refused to lie to her sister, even if the truth prompted a difficult decision.
"That's exactly why I have to stay here!" Ensia declared, her voice ringing with fierce determination. "Only by staying at the heart of the estate can I keep track of what's happening. And if Brother ever tries to manipulate you again, or force you into another sacrifice for his vision... I'll be right here to stand in his way and protect you!"
Ensia's words were resolute. It was the solemn vow she had made to herself after her long discussion with the Doctor—this time, she would be the one to stand tall and shield her older sister.
Even if the adversary she had to stand against was her own brother.
"A girl like you... claiming she's going to protect me..." Enya murmured, her heart swelling with an unbearable mix of warmth and grief. Tears welled in her eyes as she reached out to stroke her sister's head.
"Hey, I'm not doing it alone! The Doctor is helping me!" Ensia beamed, her tough facade breaking into a cheeky grin. "Besides, as long as I'm in this house, my word still carries weight. This time, I will shield—"
Before the innocent girl could finish her proud declaration, Enya pulled her tightly into her arms, burying her face in Ensia's shoulder as a radiant, tearful smile broke across her features.
"I am so deeply moved." Enya whispered softly, holding her close. "To think my little sister is all grown up and ready to protect me... But for now, I must head back. If I stay any longer, the monks will come hunting for me."
There were a thousand more words she wished to say, but Enya knew her time was up. Staying any longer would risk dragging the estate into an immediate, messy confrontation with the Vine-Bear Court.
With a final, lingering embrace, Enya and Jeanne slipped back out through the high window frame, vanishing into the lingering morning mist. Ensia stood quietly by the sill for a long moment, watching the snow-dusted horizon, before wiping her eyes, putting on her usual bright smile, and walking back out into the manor corridors.
Meanwhile, as Jeanne carried the Saintess through the snowy mountain air toward the valley town, she looked down at the snow leopard in her arms.
"It feels like something clicked inside you," Jeanne remarked, noticing the subtle shift in the woman's aura. "You seem entirely different from when we set out last night."
"I simply came to a realization," Enya replied quietly, her gaze fixed ahead. "If I truly want to protect Ensia, I can no longer afford to remain a passive bystander hiding behind sacred walls."
Hearing her younger sister's fierce vow to shield her had rekindled something powerful within Enya. She was done running. She was ready to face the storm head-on.
When the two slipped back into the quiet streets of the valley town, they were greeted by the chaotic sight of dozens of monks from the Vine-Bear Court scouring the alleys like frantic bloodhounds. They were tearing the district apart, desperate to locate their missing Saintess.
As Jeanne made a move to duck into a side alley and bypass the search parties, Enya gently laid a hand on her arm to stop her.
"No need to hide," Enya said smoothly, her eyes gleaming with newfound, unshakeable resolve. "We walk straight past them."